


Fractured

by imkerfuffled



Category: All New X-Factor, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, honestly it might work better as pre-slash, missing scene in issue 14, rated for brief language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imkerfuffled/pseuds/imkerfuffled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda came to visit Lorna, but Pietro...</p><p>Pietro didn't even know she was there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractured

**Author's Note:**

> Because that issue is my very favorite thing ever, but on every page I could feel the absence of Pietro like a stab to my heart, and it would have been _so easy_ for Wanda to contact him but she _didn't_ and I can't help but feel that was deliberate and now I am going to cry.
> 
> Also, I seriously considered making this an actual quickbit fic, but I wanted the focus to be on Pietro and his relationship with Wanda, and I thought that might detract from it somewhat. Plus I suck at writing romance, so there's that too.

Pietro entered the living room with a yawn, ineffectually stifling it with one hand while the other stretched up toward the ceiling. He leaned against the wall and blinked forcefully for a few seconds to clear the early morning gunk from his eyes.

“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” said a voice.

Pietro nearly jumped out of his skin, instinctively readying himself to attack before he realized it wasn’t a random supervillain who had spoken, but Gambit. ( _Stupid, Pietro. Because ‘mornin’ sleepyhead’ is such a villainous opening statement.)_

Remy lounged in a big, squishy armchair looking simultaneously like he’d just woken up himself and like he’d already been there awake for hours, which Pietro was fairly certain shouldn’t be possible. Remy took one look at Pietro’s face—startled, wide-eyed, with rumpled hair sticking out at all angles—and instantly burst into peals of wicked laughter.

On second thought, Pietro decided, Remy would make a wonderfully stereotypical villain cackling in that chair with one of his cats ( _Figaro? No, Lucifer? Oh, who cares)_ draped over his lap. The overall effect was ruined somewhat by the pizza grease dribbling down his chin, coming from a reheated, folded up slice dangling in his hand.

“I didn’t see you there,” Pietro grumbled, feeling his face flush as he hastily flattened his hair down, “What time is it?”

“About noon. You slept in late; usually you’re up at the crack of dawn,” Remy stopped laughing long enough for an evil grin to spread across his features, “ _Soooo…_ What kept you up? Was she hot?”

Pietro leveled him with a stern glare.

“Or he. I’m an equal opportunity kind a’ guy, if you know what I mean.”

Pietro got the slightly disconcerting impression that Remy was trying to flirt with him after just implying that Pietro could already be in a relationship. For the sake of his sanity, he decided to ignore that until sometime after he got his morning coffee. “ _She_ was my daughter, and we were playing monopoly with Georgia.”

“Oh,” Remy blinked, “Remind me not ta say stuff like that while Luna’s here. Save us both th’ awkwardness.”

“Yeah,” Pietro said. His scowl morphed into something more quizzical as he scanned the rest of the otherwise empty room. “Where is everyone?”

Remy chuckled, “They’re all over the place, _mon ami_. You missed a lot in your nap. I think the kids’ve found the indoor pool on the fifth floor—did you know we have an indoor pool?—and last I checked, Doug is consoling Warlock on his crush.”

“Oh, did Danger turn him down?” Pietro pulled a sympathetic face.

“ _Well_ ,” Remy drew out the word for several seconds as he tried to stuff the rest of the pizza down his throat, “Ids kinda de oboside pobem.”

“Excuse me?” Pietro asked, trying his best to ignore the pizza sauce oozing out of the corners of his teammate’s mouth.

Remy swallowed his pizza in one big gulp. “Apparently Danger wants to have sex with him.”

“That’s a new development.”

“Yeah. I think she asked Lorna too, so if Danger suddenly tries ta bluntly seduce ya here’s your heads up.”

“Thanks,” Pietro smirked, “So, is Lorna in a meeting or something? I, uh, need to talk with her about something. Avengers related. Top secret.”

“Uh huh," Remy gave him a skeptical look, "Can it wait until she and Danger get back from the Renaissance Fair with Wanda?”

“I don’t think—wait, what?” Pietro froze. At the sound of his twin’s name a jolt shot through his chest, similar to the feeling of putting on a burst of super-speed, except sharper, more poignant. “Wanda was here?” he asked, his voice strained as he tried to sound relaxed.

A second too late, Remy realized his mistake, and his usually carefree, easygoing face fell. “I… I thought you knew already,” he said.

Pietro shook his head automatically. He didn’t ask how he could possibly have known that if he had been asleep all morning. He didn’t ask if Wanda had wanted to know where he was when she arrived. He simply forced his vocal chords into a neutral shape and said, “Did she say why she came?”

Remy looked hesitant to answer. “I just caught them on the way out, but Lorna mentioned something about a sisterly bonding night.”

“Oh. Right.” Pietro felt that jolt in his chest turn to icy shards as his fears crashed over his head. She didn’t want to see him. Of course she didn’t; how could she, after all he had done, both to her and to all mutantkind?

_(Stupid, selfish Pietro, thinking you deserve a second chance.)_

“Hey, maybe she just… wanted to let you sleep?” Remy said, fumbling for an excuse.

“Don’t patronize me,” Pietro hissed. He knew, of course, that what he did was unforgivable. He knew that better than anybody, but some tiny little corner of his heart still held out hope for a reconciliation. Some tiny little part of him still foolishly believed their relationship could return to the way it was, before he caused the House of M and nearly killed the last remaining mutants with his mad delusions. Sometimes, he still expected to turn around and see Wanda leaning up against the counter, maybe reading from a book of magic as she scarfed down her breakfast like she used to.

They used to be so close. Inseparable.

And now she had come to Serval Industries, where she must know he was staying, and she had come only to get to know Lorna, never even acknowledging the existence of the brother she already knew. He had expected, even anticipated, an eventual confrontation after the debacle at the press conference, but this deliberate cold-shoulder approach felt so much worse than anything his imagination could supply. Though he may understand and accept her reasons, it still hurt.

“Hey,” Remy said again. He had risen to his feet with an expression of concern, the cat unceremoniously dumped off his lap. “Are you okay? I mean, what’s wr—can I—?” A flash of irritation played across his face at his inability to find the right words. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Pietro realized that, lost as he was in his head, he had slumped against the wall on his right, and all his carefully constructed masks had crumbled away, leaving his emotions written plainly on his face. He drew in a strangled breath, hating how pitiful he must look and how near he teetered to the edge of losing control.

 _(Pathetic. After everything that’s happened recently,_ this _is what sets you off? Fucking pathetic.)_

Remy took a step forward with worried creases still etched in the space between his eyes. _(I don’t want your damn pity, Gambit. I’m the last person you should be giving that to.)_ Another step. ( _Just go away go away go away go awaygoawaygoawaygoaway. Fucking weak. Fucking pathetic. Don’t you dare break down in front of fucking Gambit of all people don’tyoudare—)_

Too late. Remy took one more step and tentatively, awkwardly, as if he himself couldn’t say why he did it, held out his arms in invitation for a hug, and Pietro just melted. Before he could stop himself, he was sobbing into Remy’s shoulder, letting fall tears that he had held in check ever since the press conference. He was shaking all over and clinging to his teammate like his life depended on it, and part of Pietro knew how humiliating this should be, but another part of him just didn’t care, couldn’t care, because all his pent up grief and anger and sadness and guilt and regret and shame and _pain_ could come pouring out, and _God_ he didn’t know how much he needed this.

“I miss her,” he whispered.

Remy had no idea how to respond to that, so he said simply nodded.

“I don’t deserve this damn team, Remy.”

“ _Cher,_ I’ve spent half my career running around for some sinister plot or another, and I’m still here, aren’t I?” Remy said, “T’ point is, you gotta learn when to cut yourself some slack.”

A sardonic snort forced its way out of Pietro’s throat. “When even Wanda won’t forgive me for everything I’ve done, it isn't the time for ‘slack.’ You thought the same when we first joined the team.”

“Yeah, well,” Remy said softly, “From what I hear, you weren’t really in your right mind when you did all that. God knows I should’ve had too much experience with that t’ve to judged you for it.”

Without warning, Pietro went still. His eyes focused somewhere beyond the far wall, and his arms loosened around Remy’s shoulders. When he spoke again, his voice was dead and monotone. “I manipulated my sister into accidentally decimating the mutant population and then left her to take full blame for it. I exposed my own daughter to the Terrigen Mists after being told explicitly that it could kill her. No amount of excuses can make that go away.”

For several more seconds, or perhaps it was minutes, neither man spoke, not for a lack of things to say, but because Remy felt that anything he could say would be hypocritical of him. They simply stood there as Pietro’s tears dried in their tracts, finding comfort in the silence. After some time, Remy took a breath to speak again…

“Hey, guys—oh…” Doug poked his head around the doorframe just as Remy opened his mouth. “Um…”

For the second time that morning Pietro jumped at the unexpected voice, and he and Remy leapt apart at such a rate that only a speedster could achieve. Doug looked sheepish and tactfully ignored the hand Pietro swiped across his eyes.

“Have you, uh, seen the news yet?” Doug asked. They shook their heads. “The world’s gone crazy. It’s… Well, you should come with me. Snow’s called everyone for a meeting about it. Have you seen Danger and the others?”

Remy glanced at Pietro, looking for a cue for what to say, but Pietro answered instead. “Renaissance Fair. She, Lorna, and Wanda took a girls day out.”

If Doug sensed anything odd about the way he said it, he had the good sense to not let it show. He gestured for them to follow him, and quickly the three made their way to the elevator.

At the last second, Pietro paused, turning toward Remy with an unreadable expression, and Remy thought for sure, for just a moment, he would say something about... whatever that had been earlier. "Thank you," perhaps, or even, "Don't you dare tell anyone." And Remy considered saying something as well. "Don't mention it. "Anytime you need to talk..." "Look, we still hate each other, right?"

Instead, Pietro said, “I can’t believe you made a _pun_ about Mister Sinister.”

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly if you've got a name like Mister Sinister you deserve all the puns made about you


End file.
